


Dark Reflections

by AuthorUnknown



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst, Angst and More Angst, Depending on Your Interpretation, F/F, One-Sided Relationship, really that's about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-04
Updated: 2016-10-04
Packaged: 2018-08-19 10:41:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8202514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuthorUnknown/pseuds/AuthorUnknown
Summary: Meticulous even in moments of weakness, Alex times her breakdown to last exactly nine minutes





	

            As soon as Kara and Hank leave to investigate, you excuse yourself and rush to the toilet.  You aren’t yet sure how bad it will be, but you know it’s going to hit you, now that Kara is out of earshot.  Upon your arrival, you close your eyes and perform a few rapid calculations in your head.  You use the National City skyline to estimate the object’s altitude, and then combine that with its arc speed as it travelled through your field of vision to determine velocity.  Then, using Hank’s top speed (though stronger, he is also noticeably slower than your sister), you conclude that, even if the object turns out to be nothing more exciting than an ordinary meteor, you have at least ten minutes before your boss and sister could return.  Plenty of time for a nervous breakdown.

            You promise yourself to keep it down to nine minutes, just to give yourself time to scrub your face and calm your breathing in order to avoid worrying Kara.  Objectively, you suppose, it is perfectly understandable that you should be a bit shaken up; the last several weeks have been difficult, and the last twenty-four hours downright impossible, but you know from experience that even nine minutes of indulgence will have you beating yourself up for weeks.  Ah, well.  No other options.  For one brief instant, you let go of your careful emotional control, and your mind instantly snaps back to the previous night.

            Before you even know what’s happening, you’re on the floor in front of the toilet, heaving, and somewhere in the back of your mind you’re grateful that dinner hadn’t actually started when the meteor interrupted you all.  But at the moment, your mind has room for only one thought: ‘You would have killed her’.  Over and over, ‘You would have killed her’.  You aren’t sure whose voice is accusing you.  Probably your own.  You rise slowly to your feet and stare at yourself in the mirror.  _No.  That’s not true.  I couldn’t kill her.  If anything could have provoked a strong enough emotional response to rid me of Non’s control, killing…_ you can’t even think it.  You try again.   _If anything could have provoked a strong enough emotional response to rid me of Non’s control,_ doing that _would have._ Your accuser reluctantly agrees.  ‘Probably.  But here’s the real question: would it have freed you before or after inflicting a mortal blow?’

            That question you can’t answer.  Not because the question doesn’t have an answer, but because the question itself scares you so badly, you can’t even try to come up with one.  You can’t lose her.  You said as much to her a few weeks ago when you confessed to killing her aunt.  It briefly occurs to you to wonder whether it’s healthy to be so completely dependent on someone else.  Briefly.  You can’t really bring yourself to care.  And, after all, if you have to be enmeshed with someone, there are worse options than indestructible superheroes. 

            It’s at this point that James knocks on the door, asking whether you’re okay.  You realise that someone must have heard your heaving a moment ago.  Carefully modulating your voice to sound like your usual, stoic self, you successfully convince James to leave you alone, at least for the next—you check your watch—four minutes.  He leaves, but somehow still manages to intrude into your thoughts.

            James.  Kara.  You’re not an idiot—in point of fact, you’re just about the closest thing this planet has to the exact opposite of an idiot—you saw what happened between them a few minutes ago.  You aren’t sure exactly what it means, not having Kara’s hearing, but it clearly means something.  You’ll have to interrogate Kara about it later, although you suspect finesse will yield better results than brute force in this case. 

            You aren’t entirely certain why it’s causing you to _feel_ so much.  If anything, it should be making you happy.  Your sister’s luck seems to have finally changed with regard to her love life, and James is an excellent catch.  You’re generally more into women than men, but even you can appreciate his physique, and he was sensitive enough to come check on you a few moments ago.  You wonder whether you take issue with the way he seems to have pursued your sister and your new colleague simultaneously, but quickly dismiss the thought.  He may have sent some rather mixed signals, but he never actually pursued both of them at once.  You press the heels of your hands into your eyes and mutter to yourself, ‘I’m still her sister.  James is no threat to me.  I’m still her sister’.

            The insistence with which you keep repeating it to yourself is revelatory.  It isn’t true.  You love her like a sister; of course you do.  But…you may also love her in a few other ways.  A friend, an ally…a lover.  And that’s one secret you’ll never reveal to anyone, not even that DEO-sanctioned therapist that Hank insists you see at least once a week.  You came to terms with it long ago: you love your foster sister, and for that reason you cannot ever tell her.  It wouldn’t be wrong; it wouldn’t even be illegal.  But it would be social suicide.  You don’t much care about that, and you’re quite sure Kara wouldn’t, either, but you know that, for her own good, Kara cannot draw attention to herself—and there are not many things that would draw more attention than foster sisters falling in love.  Someone might go digging and find a few more serious secrets, and then Kara would have to build a new identity, with no relationship to her old life.  With no relationship to you.  You couldn’t handle that.  She wouldn’t care about the risk, of course, which is why you can’t even tell her.  No.  This secret must be yours, and yours alone.

            All at once, you realise two things: one, at some point you’ve started crying silently, and two, you’re receiving a call from Kara to tell you about whatever it is they’ve found.  You take a deep breath and wipe away the tears from your face.  You take another second or two to quickly put your emotions back in their respective boxes—almost like cleaning up your lab after a particularly messy experiment—and answer the phone.  Your sister might need your help.  And you’ll be damned before you’ll let her down.

**Author's Note:**

> To be honest, I don't think this is all that good, and I'm probably going to regret publishing it. I'm not at all confident I've gotten the character right. Still, learning what I do badly is just as important in improving my writing as is learning what I do well. I hope it wasn't too painful. 
> 
> Oh, and if it's not too much to ask: please leave a comment and tell me why you did or didn't enjoy it.
> 
> ETA: OK, so maybe it isn't as bad as I thought. I guess I was mostly just nervous because this was my first attempt both at a Supergirl fic and at a second person piece--it didn't work when I tried to write it in the third person.
> 
> I still really hope you'll comment and tell me what you thought, though.


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